


When I Saw Him Standing There

by Stormkeeper



Category: Boy George (Musician), Culture Club (Band)
Genre: 1980s, 80's Music, 80s, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Clubbing, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Real Events, Love, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, M/M, Queer Characters, Real Life, Reality, The Blitz, True Love, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkeeper/pseuds/Stormkeeper
Summary: Set in the Blitz club.





	When I Saw Him Standing There

Jon didn't even like clubbing that much, why did he agree to come? Reluctantly, he made his way through Covent Garden towards the infamous Blitz club.

After being given the wink of approval at the door, he hesitantly walked in, passing people he wasn't entirely sure were real. A kaleidoscope of colours, turning what was a dingy backstreet club into an oddly beautiful and seemingly otherworldly universe, filled Jon with a strange sense of excitement. He squeezed through a barricade of sweaty dancing bodies to get to where he guessed would be the best and safest place - the bar. The bartender was a young blonde bombshell who immediately spotted him throwing himself on a stool and so made his way over.

"Hey gorgeous." The bartender said in a low seductive voice. 

Jon cocked his head in confusion. 

"That's right, Marilyn Monroe, at your service." The bartender bowed.

Jon blinked hard, no words able to leave his mouth. 

"You're probably wondering _what _I am. Well, why don't you come behind the bar and find out." Marilyn finished with a wink. 

"For christ sake, leave the poor boy alone!" Said the man who had let him in. 

The man's whole outfit was monochrome with the whitest skin and the blackest eyes. Jon still had no idea whether or not he was dreaming. 

"Steve." He said, offering his hand, "and this twat calls himself Marilyn." 

"Him?" Jon managed to squeak. 

"Oh yes, darling! You get all sorts of freaks in here, look at that one!" He chuckled, pointing. 

Jon's eyes followed his finger, which led him to an exotic figure laughing and bopping. He had hair that defied gravity and a face plastered with all the colours imaginable. Despite the costume, Jon could see how beautiful he truly was. 

"Who's that?" Jon asked, incapable of taking his eyes off of the mysterious figure. 

"Oh, that's George." Steve said, rolling his eyes. "He works in the cloakroom sometimes." 

Jon smiled in response, still staring at the man dancing ahead of him. 

It was almost as if he was in a trance, like nothing or no one existed, except George. Never had he seen anything like him - you never got anything quite like this in Hampstead, that's for sure. For a moment, George turned his head, meeting Jon's gaze. After a sharp intake of breath, he smiled, with George smiling obliviously before turning back. Jon's insides were on fire, unable to contain the grin cementing itself on his lips. Marilyn rolled his eyes at the exchange. 

"Needn't bother, you know." Marilyn learned over the bar. 

"What?" The sudden sound jolted him out of his daze. 

"Him," Marilyn gestured towards George, "so whiny and so high maintenance. 

Jon narrowed his eyebrows in disappointment. 

"And terrible in bed, so I hear." Marilyn spoke louder, laughing at the figure who has appeared beside Jon. 

"What poison are you dripping into this hunky young man's ear?" He asked, propping himself up against the bar. 

Jon shivered at the sound of the voice, almost gasping at the sight of the man he'd spent the whole night watching. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, and yet nothing would come out. 

"Don't listen to him, babe, I'm a dream." George smirked.

"You are." Jon spoke, instantly regretting opening his mouth. He could feel his cheeks burning. 

George laughed tenderly, slightly enjoying watching this stranger squirm. He put his hand out towards Jon and introduced himself. Jon did the same, not letting go of the man's soft hand. 

"Can I, uh, buy you a drink?" Jon stuttered, puzzled by his nervousness - he never usually had this problem. 

"Go on then!" George chuckled. 

The following hours flew by as the pair got chatting. Frankly, Jon was bewildered by the fact that they had so much in common. 

"Sorry to barge in, but we're closing." Steve smirked at the two, both equally disappointed. 

The night air was crisp and cold, causing Jon to shiver as he leant against a brick wall with George perched beside him. He put his hands in his pockets and one foot on the wall, trying to act cool and pretending he wasn't internally a mess. 

"I should probably go, it was nice to meet you Jon." George broke the silence, beginning to walk away. 

"Wait!" Jon called. 

George smiled before turning around. 

"I don't suppose I can, uh, see you again? Sometime?" Jon asked, avoiding George's eye. 

"I'd like that." George beamed, "I'm here most days, so you can pop in if you want to see me."

"I think I might just do that." Jon returned George's grin. 

George nodded at him, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. 

"Goodnight, Jon." He said tenderly, before walking down the street. 

Jon's heart nearly jumped out of his chest and he pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream. He gently cupped the cheek George had kissed, smiling softly before taking a deep breath and heading home himself. 

Once he arrived home, he went straight to bed and stared at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face. As he drifted off to sleep the wondrous figure he had met was all that occupied his dreams and decided that actually, maybe he did like clubbing after all - sometimes anyway. 


End file.
